


cat got your tongue?

by helloshitwriting



Category: Block B, Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, F/M, Magic, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7185107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloshitwriting/pseuds/helloshitwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wheein, a witch that owns a small magic shop but can barely do more than a few basic spells, seems to have had a curse cast upon her. </p><p>She enlists in the help of powerful wizard, Zico, to help get rid of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which wheein finds out she has had a curse put upon her

It was a normal day for Wheein; waking up at 2, nearly 3, in the afternoon. Hazy orange sun filtering through her windows, hitting her directly in the eyes, as if the sun god was mocking her directly.

She wonders if perhaps she _did_ anger him in some way. Maybe some spell or sigil that went against his beliefs and made him smight her.  
  
_No_ , she thinks, _there's no way_. She doesn't deal with dark magic, and nothing she performs is a problem in the eyes of a god -- if her books taught her anything.

Her landline starts ringing then, interrupting her contemplation. Sun still shines in her eyes and probably burns the corneas.

She slowly peels herself from the sheets, readying herself to answer the ringing phone.

" _Hello_?" She picks up, voice still thick with sleep. She assumes it's going to be a customer. Asking for a spell to help love or ensure a safe trip; something simple enough any half-rate wizard or witch could create, really.

" _What are you looking for?_ " The voice on the other side is garbled and barely discernible. Wheein thinks it might be Mr. Park on Main Street.

"Who is this?" She questions, running a hand through her sleep tangled hair.

"Don't forget to look left," the voice responds, ugly and retched. She looks to her left, one of the crystal hanging from her bedframe sparkles, informing her that someone will be arriving soon. She wonders if there's an actual reason for this call or if it's just to get under her skin.

Her question is answered when she hears the buzzing of the dial tone.

The person hung up.

Wheein follows suit, putting the phone back on the receiver with a roll of her eyes.

She dresses quickly, throwing her dirty hair into a bun high on her head. She thinks it hides the fact she hadn't taken a shower in a while well enough. Necklaces and rings and bracelets are slipped on next, each one holding a different charm in the stone attached.

There's a knocking coming from downstairs that her crystal predicted, rattling the beads that hung from the frame of the door. _The shop doesn't open until 3_ , Wheein thinks with a grimace, _don't people have any common decency these days?_

She peaks at her alarm clock, wondering why the person downstairs couldn't wait until opening to get their Miracle Facial cream, or powdered frog eggs, or whatever the hell they were dying to get their hands on.

3:36 the clock blinks at her with bright green numbere.

Oh _gods_.

She rushes downstairs, taking two steps at a time, apologizing to every god and deity and every magic book she's ever read for cursing out an innocent customer for just wanting to purchase something from her shop.

What an inconsiderate, unthankful little witch she is.

Wheein turns the lights on with a flourish of her finger, enveloping the shop in a low light that accentuates all the dust that floats around and clings to books and jars and anything else that doesn't have a protection spell on it.

She unlocks the door, pushing it open and bowing deeply, an apology on her lips for the waiting customer.

Her mouth opens to say ' _I'm so sorry_ ' and maybe explain that she forgot to sleep with her alarm charm last night and she slept in and _that's_ why the shop wasn't opened in a timely manner.

But nothing falls from her parted lips. No vibration is felt in her throat and no sound is heard. Her brows furrow, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Her tongue turns in her mouth, forming familiar vocables that don't have a sound.

"Are you open? My daughter is having a party at 5 and I need a spell that will keep her dress clean," the woman talks quickly and all Wheein can do is wave her hands and silently try to figure out why her voice refuses to cooperate.

Wheein holds up her first finger to signal the woman to wait while she ventures deeper into the shop in search of something.

The woman follows her until her feet are passed the threshold but barely passed the doormat, Wheein thinks she might not be very comfortable around magic.

The incessant tapping of the woman's foot against the wooden floorboards makes searching for the charmed throat elixir a little more difficult than necessary but soon enough she finds it; pulling it out beneath a bottle of monster guts that was in a sale container next to the counter. She gives a triumphant smile before spraying it into her throat.

' _Now_ , about that spell...' Wheein wants to say, once the spray has fully settled in her throat and the tingle of magic ebbs away, but nothing comes out once again. Wheein is rendered mute and she doesn't know what to do but stare at the woman steadily tapping her foot near the door.

"Forget it. I'm going to that Magic Emporium in the town over," the woman turns on her heels and opens the door briskly. She leaves with a final: " _last time I ever go to an independent witch ever again_ ," mumbled under her breath that leaves Wheein feeling useless.

She locks the door after the woman leaves. Eyes wandering around the shop for other cures for her missing voice.

She locks eyes with her cat from across the room.

She sends him a pointed glare.

It takes multiple swallows of werewolf liver, snakes eyes, chicken gizzards, and vampire blood -- all enhanced with a little bit of magic -- before Wheein decides she might need some help with this situation.

She sends a text to her best friend, Hwasa. It includes a lot of ' _S.O.S._ 's and ' _please help_ 's and ' _come over IMMEDIATELY_ 's and achieves the desired response because, quicker than Wheein could even find her broom, Hwasa is unlocking the shops front door with a spare key.

"Whats up, buttercup?" Hwasa asks Wheein who is now sitting on the stool behind the counter, hand propping her head up. Despair is smeared across her face; if Wheein keeps it up a rain cloud might literally appear above her head.

"You're looking a little droopy around the petals, sunshine," Hwasa jokes, lifting herself on top of the counter.

Wheein lets out a whine.

Which surprisingly gets her to perk up, a smile itching at her lips.

She can still make sounds it seems.

"So, what's eating you up?" Hwasa asks, picking at her nails, switching colors with a rub of her thumb against the polish.

Wheein watches the color go from sky blue, to pink, to navy, then back to sky blue, before she begins rummaging around for a piece of paper.

' _Think I got a curse put on me_ ,' she scrawls onto the paper with her finger and a little magic.

Hwasa reads it, looking down her nose at the chicken scratch.

"What makes you think that?" She questions, changing the color of her nails again. She decides on a bright red.

' _Can't speak_ ,' Wheein writes quickly, shoving the paper in Hwasas face when she doesn't look her way.

"You try any of that elixir you made last week for Mr. Park?" Hwasa asks, now focused on her friend.

Wheein nods.

"Werewolf liver?" A nod.

"Chicken gizzards?" Another nod.

"Snake eyes? Vampire blood?" Hwasa continues; Wheein nods. "You made sure to charm them before you swallowed them right?"

Wheein gives her an exasperated look, Hwasa shrugs. "Don't act like you haven't done it before," Wheein pouts.

"Who would've cursed you?" Hwasa wonders, leaning towards her friend to narrow her eyes at her. "I mean you're lazy and can't wake up without a charm .. but you barely ever mess up orders and you're not a good enough of a witch to have people wanting your power .."

Wheein rolls her eyes.

Hwasa jumps off the counter, brushes herself off, and heads towards the door.

"Well, I can't help you," she decides with a casual shrug, which elicits a desperate moan from Wheein. Hwasa pivots on her heel, nearly knocking Wheein over from following too close. "Go to this address. Heard this guy is, like, a _crazy_ good wizard or something. Pretty cute too."

Hwasa swipes a elegant finger across Wheein's forearm and in its wake is a neatly scrawled address in Hwasa's handwriting.

"Tell me how it goes," she says with a kiss and wave before exiting the store.

Looking at the address again, Wheein notices a name written just above the address in her friend's neat font.

_**ZICO** _

_**1409 W. FRONT STREET** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @helloshitwriting on tumblr


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which wheein meets zico

Firmly sat upon her broom, Wheein rides above the tall skyscrappers of Seoul. Her eyes focus on the streets below that crisscross with each other to create a grid of the city.

She was diligent in studying her grandmothers map before leaving to find this mysterious Zico her friend recommended her. But just incase, she added an extra charm that would glow bright if she became lost.

So far it only barely twinkled when she started heading west when she should have continued north. _Luckily_ , once she noticed the flare up and the unfamiliar streets, she righted herself and continued on the correct path.

If shes correct, and the odds seem to be favoring her tonight, shes nearing her destination.

When shes sure the street down below is the one that is still scrawled on her arm, she begins her descent towards the ground. It takes far shorter than she had hoped because, soon enough, she was on W. Front Street hovering barely two inches above the sidewalk.

It wasn't legal to ride brooms so close to sidewalks, where others were walking, but Wheein thought that her safety was more important than abiding by the rules this one time.

W. Front Street was more of an alley than it was a street really, Wheein assesses as her eyes drift from store front to store front. It was one of many backstreets that diverged off of Main Street, it seemed. One that held anything from the occasional herb shop to the more accessible backdoor magic dealers.

Wheein doesn't like the area, she decides as she floats down the sidewalk on her broom. Not many people occupy the small street or walkway, but the ones that do are burly and tall, sending her glares or the occasional winks. She glances down at her charm thats looped around her finger, silently hoping that it was glowing red as to alert her that this sketchy ally wasn't the right direction and that she should turn back immediately.

The ring on her middle finger of her right hand didn't even give a flicker of light.

A sigh is heaved somewhere deep within her lungs, she hopes she'll find the numbers 1409 on one of the storefronts quickly.

"Hey, girly!" She hears someone call out from across the street, which immediately has her perking up and looking for the owner of the voice that called out to her.

She finds the man with a smile on his face and a glint in his eyes directed at her, and it doesn't take a second glance for Wheein to send her broom into a quicker pace.

"Where you going, girly?" The voice is boisterous and loud, a small pull of the last vocable upwards makes Wheein think he's still smiling that goose-bump inducing smile.

Wheein looks from the store fronts ( _1403, 1405..._ ), down to her ring, and then back at the man who shes hoping kept his place on the opposite side of the street.

Her eyes barely locked onto the large form following behind her before she quickly faces forward again, now hyper aware of the _thwack thwack thwacking_ of his shoes against pavement.

Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, when her eyes locked onto the rusted letters 1407 on the storefront to her right.

She jumps off her broom, ungraceful as ever. Her feet meet the sidewalk before her knees quickly follow. Wheein barely registers the sting before she's grabbing her broom and running the few feet to the storefront with the golden 1409 on the door.

Wheein throws the door open, closing it before it has the chance to shut on its own. She locks it behind her, instinct kicking in.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She hears a voice from within the shop ask her in a harsh bite. It's a man, she notes, also noticing the harsh glare she's receiving from him propped up against his workbench.

He's long and lean, his sandy hair cropped above his eyebrows in jagged bangs. His glare could probably kill her if she wasn't still thinking about the man that was following her.

Her hands start flailing, pointing outside and gesturing what she's trying to express while taking big gulps of cigarette stained air.

The man heaves himself from his relaxed slump, slowly making his way to the front of the store where Wheein still stands, now tightly gripping her broom with both hands. He's tall, Wheein notes when she scuttles out of his way once he approaches the door.

He unlocks it before pulling it open, the top of the door banging against a bell to create a jarring chime that makes Wheein flinch.

"What do you want?" The storeowners voice asks, his shoulder now pressed against the frame.

"Looking for a little witch that just floated her way in here. Not looking for any trouble. Me and she had some plans," the voice sends a chill down Wheein's spine. She grips her broom tighter and tries to peek at the man on the other side of the threshold through the shop owners arm, he uses his foot to push her behind the door before she can even get a glance.

"Haven't seen any witches. Get lost," he says with a tone of finality before closing the door with a loud slam that rattles the whole shop.

Wheein jumps back when he briskly turns on his heel and heads back towards his workbench. Wheeins eyes take in the cluttered area. Jars and bottles filled with liquids and half alive creature parts preserved in asbestos litter surfaces and shelves. Books upon books are piled where ever they fit. On the mans work bench there is a plethora of papers strewn upon it haphazardly. Some pencils are animated, dancing around on paper held up by invincible hands carved by magic. Ivy and herbs climb high up the walls.

Wheein is surprised to see a space messier than hers.

"You get lost too, little witch," the man says, plopping himself down on the chair in front of the workbench, plucking one of the moving pencils from the air. He continues the work the pencil was previously doing.

Wheein jolts again, eyes widening. Her arms start crossing and waving, making a big 'X'. Her lips gape, no sound falling from them. A whine comes from somewhere in her throat, desperate to communicate.

"Cat got your tongue, little witch?" he asks, head angling toward her to look at her over his shoulder.

Wheein nods her head enthusiastically, finally moving into the shop instead of standing by the closed door.

"I'm not looking for any apprentices. And I'm not taking on any more clients. So you can save your breath," he states in that tone that doesn't allow any room for argument. Wheein frowns.

She makes her way to his workbench, trying to peek at what he was scribbling so diligently. With a flick of his wrist she has one of the papers from his desk pressed against her face, covering her view and making her let out another whine.

"Mind your own business, little witch," the man says when Wheein finally removes the paper from her face. She looks down at it, the paper tragically blank.

She grabs the pencil from the mans hand, earning herself a angry growl from him, before she starts scrawling on the paper.

'Looking for ZICO' she writes and shoves it in his face where he grabs it from her hand.

He reads it quickly, a scowl smeared across his lips.

"You're speakin' to him," Zico says with a roll of his eyes. "Now, what do you want? I already told you I'm not looking for an apprentice."

She takes the scrap back from him.

'curse put on me. can't speak'

He chortles, crumpling the paper up and throwing it behind him. The paper falls into the mess; it barely looks out of place.

"Make an elixir, or eat some monster guts. I'm sure a half-rate witch like yourself could manage that, right?" He looks over at her with a cocked brow, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a mocking smirk.

Wheein stomps her foot, anger boiling her blood and turning her face red.

'I DID ALL THAT ALREADY!!' She writes across whatever Zico had been so diligently scribbling on instead of helping a fellow magic user in need.

"Do you wanna die, little witch? You should know better than to dirty a sigil," Wheein blanches at his words, he lets out a dry chortle. "That's what I thought. Find someone else, little witch."

With the tainted sigil in his hand, he walks to a trashcan Wheein couldn't even distinguish from all the clutter. He snaps his fingers, a small flame appearing from his thumb.

He sets the sigil ablaze and lets the ashes fall into the trashcan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @helloshitwriting on tumblr


End file.
